


King of Swords

by SanctuaryTrin



Category: Jynnic - Fandom, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Jynnic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 23:46:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8305784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SanctuaryTrin/pseuds/SanctuaryTrin
Summary: Galen Erso and Vice Admiral Krennic have been friends since Jyn Erso was a child. Family tragedy caused a split between Jyn and her father and she took to living in the streets. Then the war came and changed everything. Her friends killed, her contacts scattered, the streets themselves were all but destroyed completely. Only the wealthiest people with the loftiest connections can maintain some semblance of life, so Jyn must reluctantly turn to the only person who can help her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note on Setting: In my mind, this is a post-WWII setting, of sorts. London destroyed by the blitz, etc.

She remembered the birch forest and the immaculate lawns. The marble hall that gleamed in sunlight and glowed in electric light. She remembered sliding across the cold floors in stocking feet, pretending she was ice skating, until she fell forward and hurt her knee. 

She remembered large, warm hands lifting her up.

“You’re alright, sparrow.”

Blue eyes. 

 

Now, she shifted from heel to toe in her scuffed brown shoes and gripped the handle of her suitcase. She didn’t want to set it down upon the marble. She didn’t want to see the contrast. She knew exactly how shabby she looked. 

She had been told to wait by the short, nervous looking young man in wire-rimmed glasses. Young Man had disappeared into the depths of the house and the only sound she could hear was the languorous tick of the grandfather clock. 

 

Krennic appeared, wearing a light gray suit that almost matched his silvery hair. No, his hair was warmer, pulling taupe in the shifting light.  

“Welcome, Jyn.” 

Blue eyes. 

 

She followed him down the hall, though he repeatedly lagged. He wanted her to walk at his side. He had a curiously smooth, graceful stride. Not stiff and formal like most military men. Passing by grand room after grand room, light colored and glossy, shining glass and polished wood, the only sound was the click of his shoes against marble. 

“Would you like something to eat? I can have something sent to your room.”

“No thank you.”

He checked his watch.

“Dinner will be in one hour seven minutes, anyway. Would you like a drink? I’m going to have one myself.” 

 

She sat down cautiously on the chesterfield across from him. He settled and watched her sip her whiskey. Her eyes were greener than he remembered and her lips had gotten very full. 

“What did my father say to you?”

Krennic stopped mid-sip, cocked his head a bit, and sat back in his chair. 

“He said you needed help, that you needed a place to stay, that he needed me to Keep-An-Eye-On-You.”

Jyn hissed out a scoff and shook her head. 

“Yes, well.  _ He _ needs all of those things because  _ he _ cannot provide them himself. You do realize.”

Her lower lip had a very appealing crease. He had the sudden urge to press his thumb against it.

“Very few people can provide those things after the war. I am here to help, Jyn. What you do is your business. You can stay as long as you like.” 

Jyn set down her glass and Krennic followed suit, his eyes turning curious, narrowed. 

“Do you remember playing in this house when you were little?”

“I remember certain things, flashes…”

Blue eyes.

“I remember you called me sparrow,” her full pout widened into a smile, showing her prominent teeth. 

“I called you that because you were little and brown and you flew around my house. And because you were a bit of a nuisance.” 

“And now?” 

“I could still call you that. For different reasons.”

“Like what?” 

“Because you’re brave. Because you’re a survivor. Because your eyes are wild.”

His gaze penetrated her. 

“Because I take dust baths and throw seeds about.” 

He laughed and covered his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I suppose I’ll call you Jyn, then.” 

 

The birch grove behind the house became her favorite place. She could see it being unrelentingly desolate in mid-winter, but now it was spring, and the green was so sharp she could taste it just by breathing in. She loved peeling off little strips of bark, as she had when she was a child, until her father caught her and soberly lectured her on how she was hurting the tree by exposing it. 

But now, her father wasn’t here.

The little, thin, onion-like strips were frustrating but when she got a big piece it felt like an accomplishment. Imagine that. Surviving on her own since she was fifteen on the streets and peeling bark was satisfying. 

She lay down in the grass and rolled up a piece of bark, looking up at the sky through it like a telescope. Blue skies were hard to come by in the filth and smog of the city. 

She heard footsteps in the grass coming toward her. It was Krennic, dressed in a white shirt and gray slacks and looking very much like he was part of the forest.

 

“I’m having an...event, I suppose you could call it. Tomorrow night. Work people, military people, very dull.”

“My father-”

“He’s not coming. He knows you’re here and he knows you don’t wish to see him. I think he’s just happy that you have a roof over your head.” 

The bark crackled in her hand as she contracted it slightly. 

“Thank you.” 

“The war changed a lot of things, Jyn. Your father included.”

“It seems to have not touched this place at all,” she said, leaning back once again to look through her telescope. 

“It has, though you may not see it.” 

There was a moment of quiet while Jyn watched the leaves rustle against sky. “You are more than welcome to join the party, if you like. Or you can just stay in your little nest.” 

“I might.” 

She was very aware of his eyes on her body. She lay her arms down over her head and met his gaze, challenging him. There was an electric pulse between them. He smiled his wide, curved grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes and turned away. 

Jyn was surprised at the keen stab of disappointment she felt. 

Five years she lived on the streets. She had given that look to a few men, and they had all responded immediately. Sex was sometimes a power play, or an alliance of sorts, but mostly it was just something to do. A way to keep warm. She had never gotten any particular pleasure out of it, though she knew women who did occasionally.

Her world had been built of cobblestone. Corners of buildings, dark alleys, bits and pieces of experiences somehow held together by the constant threat of danger. It was huge, grotesque and spider-like, radiating out from a central point that was her mother’s death and her father’s inability to acknowledge it. Then the war came and blew apart the entire structure, scattering everything. 

And these slim, frail birch trees, the tender grass, the fragile glass and marble had all survived under the Admiral’s protection. 

 

“How did your father happen to find you again?” Krennic asked. Even in the low light of his study Jyn could see the wicked gleam in his eye. He knew he was treading into sensitive territory. 

She took a sip, sucking in a chip of ice and crunching it up. “Pure chance, actually. He was passing by one of the city shelters.”

“Do you think perhaps he wanted to find you?”

“I very much doubt it. When I asked him for help he went straight to you. He wouldn’t even take me in for one night,” she set down her glass and breathed in, watching the amber glow of lamplight glinting through the whiskey. “Not even for one night.” 

She heard a soft click of ice as Krennic took a large draft, finishing his drink. 

Jyn stood up and wandered over to his desk of polished mahogany. Her fingers lightly grazed over the antique globe, the carved ivory wing, the quartz dagger. She could feel his eyes on her. The sensation was fascinating, unique, as if he were touching the back of her neck. She lowered her chin to expose more to him, and began to feel her response swell and lower until she found herself clenching her thighs together. 

She heard him stand and walk towards her and she turned around quickly. Unable to meet his eyes, she looked at his mouth. His lower lip was wet and shining. He was smiling slightly. 

Jyn darted away and focused on the first thing she could, a framed mounting on the wall. It was a large moth, rust and cream with black spots. 

“Callosamia promethea,” said Krennic. “The Saturniidae family.” 

“Promethea? As in the myth of Prometheus?” 

Krennic cocked his head slightly as he always did when he was amused. 

“Tell me the myth, Jyn.”

A pulse of indignation. He was testing her. 

“Prometheus was a god-”

“-A Titan.”

“...Titan, who stole fire from Mount Olympus and gave it to humanity. This made Zeus very angry and he punished Prometheus by...Tying him to a rock?”

“He is chained to a rock where every night an eagle feeds on his liver, which is then regenerated by day, and the cycle begins again.” 

“Bit harsh, isn’t it?”

Krennic shrugged. “Fire is a powerful thing. It saved us from darkness and from ignorance. Well, perhaps not all of us from ignorance. Prometheus is a hero to humanity for introducing such technology, don’t you think?” 

Jyn thought of the earth shaking blasts, the shouts of panic, her friend’s shoe amongst the scattered bricks. 

“Perhaps.” 

Krennic watched Jyn’s gaze lower to the floor, eyes widening. She pulled her head back slightly as if some menace were there, crouched and ready to spring. He intercepted the frightening vision by going to her and grasping her hands in his. 

Jyn was startled by how warm his hands were, and she looked up and met his eyes. She found it strange that the color blue should be so full of heat. 

“You’ve had a hard time of it, haven’t you,” Krennic said in a low, gentle voice. 

“Others have had far worse.” Jyn answered. Her heart was pounding. His closeness, his gaze...She did not feel comforted. She felt electric, breathless. 

“I think I should get some rest,” she whispered.

Krennic lifted his chin, releasing her hands and turning away. 

“You should. You have a big day of avoiding preparations, tomorrow,” he said with an upward twitch of his shoulders. 

“Goodnight,” said Jyn, and Krennic’s only response was a slight nod. 

 

On the night of the party, Jyn confined herself to her room. 

When she ran out of books to read and the interest it took to seek out new ones, she paced. The constant hum of voices from below began to irritate her. She had no desire to see any of those people. She had no desire to endure “Oh my goodness you’re quite a grown woman now” fifty times over by strangers who had come out of this war smelling like blood and face powder. 

Thoroughly bored, she turned on the tap to start a bath in her tub near the fireplace. “Convenient in winter,” she had been told. Convenient to be able to take baths at all, really. She changed into the black robe, one of many items of clothing provided for her, and drifted toward the door. Perhaps they were playing music downstairs and she might be able to listen for a bit while the basin filled. 

She left her room and wandered down the hall, following the sounds of string instruments to the balcony above the grand staircase. She leaned on the carved, polished bannister and listened as guests drifted and gestured and fake smiled their way across the marble hall. All of the military officers were in full uniform for the occasion, and Vice Admiral Krennic would be in white. She found herself searching the crowd for him. 

Krennic was ready for the evening to be over. He had been ready for it to be over before it had even begun. He wanted to sit with Jyn in the dark, quiet library and have a drink. He wanted to watch her mouth as she spoke. He wanted to place his hand on the slope of her lower back as he bid her goodnight. He wanted to pick up her glass and put his lips on it and consume the last drops she left behind.

He hated these people for keeping her from him, for making her fly away. 

Crossing the hall, he caught something in the corner of his eye and looked up. It was Jyn, perched on the second floor balcony. She was wearing the black silk kimono with the red phoenix embroidered on the back. She met his eyes and seemed to blink slowly. Then she turned and disappeared. 

 

He didn’t knock. 

 

He closed the door behind him and stood for a moment before crossing the room with straight, direct steps. His eyes never left her face, even when he stopped beside the bath and began to unbutton his coat. He did so methodically, and Jyn found herself noticing his hands for the first time. He had very large fingers. Coarse, brutish hands. 

Her lips parted as desire bloomed within her. He lifted his chin a bit, yet said nothing. He removed his coat and turned briefly to lay it upon the bed, then turned back and unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves. 

The water was clouded from soap, but Krennic’s searing gaze made Jyn feel entirely exposed. A fierce rush of heat colored her cheeks and lips and she brought her hands to her chest, clasping them together, her arms crossed over her breasts. 

He still said nothing. His face expressionless, his eyes steel blue as he knelt down and rolled up his sleeves. His left eye had a darker, more defined rim than the right. 

He reached over the water and held his hand suspended over it. Jyn watched as he touched the rippling surface with his fingertips. Her breath quickened and she looked back at him, their eyes meeting once again. 

“Tell me to leave, Jyn.” 

She didn’t want to tell him that. She shook her head and unfolded her arms, revealing her breasts. 

“Tell me to leave. Say it.” His eyes pierced her. 

“I want you to leave.”

“Say my name. Ask me nicely.”

Her head fell back and she smiled slightly, licking her lips.

“Please, Admiral Krennic. I want you to leave.”

His hand plunged below the surface of the water and grazed her thigh. She opened her legs to him and his fingers found the folds of her sex, found the richer, hotter wetness past the thin water, and Jyn gasped and clutched at his arm on the rim of the tub. 

“Look at me, Jyn.”

He was stroking her soft layers gently and testing her tight little entrance. 

Jyn exhaled in a shaking rush and lifted her gaze to his once again. As they locked eyes her response was acute, sending a bolt of heat through her sex that washed over his fingers. 

She saw the knowledge of her pleasure register in his face and her cheeks and neck burned with shyness. Something she hadn’t felt for a very long time. 

“Keep your eyes on me.” 

His finger traced upwards along her parted folds until he found it. The little knot hidden underneath. He stroked it firmly. 

Jyn cried out as if she had been struck. The pleasure was too direct, too intense, and far too new to her. She squeezed her eyes shut and arched her back, closing her legs around his arm and locking him in place. 

“Jyn...” There was a note of surprise and fascination in his voice. 

She reluctantly opened her eyes. He was calm and controlled but his gaze burned fiercely. 

“Have you ever-”

“I have but I don’t...The way you’re touching me...I didn’t know-” she stammered. She felt utterly foolish. 

He cupped the back of her neck with his other hand and held her steady, leaning in closer. He smelled like birch bark and shaving soap and grass. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” he said again. Low and gentle. 

She refocused. 

He waited until her breathing slowed and her legs relaxed, then slowly circled her clit, studying her response. 

Pleasure pulsed in rhythmic waves through her sex and radiated up to her chest, dragging a fluttery, feminine moan from her that made Krennic’s breath audibly quicken. He gently kneaded the back of her neck as he continued to press and surround her clit, and Jyn rubbed herself against his finger, working her hips into his leisurely pace, the water rippling and swirling around her.  

She began to feel a strange craving in between her legs, a need to be filled and fucked. Her eyes widened and darkened as images of Krennic hunched over her, his cock thrusting into her, flooded her mind. His mouth was open, now. His lips were wet, pliant and reddish in direct contrast to his hard, steely eyes. 

Jyn began to tremble, tension building and being released in agonizingly short, tiny bursts that only seemed to increase the gorgeous, luxurious suffering this man was inflicting upon her. His pace quickened and her hands gripped the sides of the basin. She felt her head tip back and her eyes start to close as she drifted near the edge of something…

“Stay with me. Let it happen.” 

Back to his gaze. 

Blue eyes.

“Come, Jyn.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut but still saw him as she arched and clenched and cried out.

Krennic held her there, his finger against her swollen, pulsing flesh, and swore to himself that he would never let her leave again. She belonged to him, now, and he was going to watch her come every night.  

Her eyes were very dark and very wet when she opened them. 

His eyes shone back at her. His hair was wavy and his neck was flushed red. He had freckles. 

She tried to speak but found she had nothing to say. He smiled kindly. 

“You’re alright, sparrow.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
